


Curiousity

by BlueMinuet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Injury, M/M, Trapped in Enclosed Space, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: Curiosity has a tendency to kill nosy scientists, a fact Wheeljack is all too aware of.“So, do you regret making this your grand debut back to the world of science?”“And leave all this fun to you?” Starscream grinned. “Hardly.”





	Curiousity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Insecuriosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insecuriosity/gifts).



> Dear giftee, I hope you enjoy this. I tried to stick to the spirit of your prompt. I hope it worked out!

“I’m fine.”

“Are you though?” 

Starscream glared at him, biting his finger. There had been enough powerful, concentrated energy in the small explosion to damage the plating on the digit, and lacking a medic, Starscream opted to just crimp the damaged metal back down as best he could with his dentae. 

“We’re not dead, so I’d say I’m just great, Wheeljack.” 

Wheeljack nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s gonna be our measuring stick for the next few hours.” He prodded his diagnostic interface, coaxing information out of the resistant systems he was plugged into. “That didn’t do us any favors, but it doesn’t look like we’re about to explode yet either.” 

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Starscream muttered around his injured finger. “What kind of Decepticon ship won’t recognize the Air Commander’s access codes?” 

“The kind intent on killing anyone stupid enough to get in it,” Wheeljack said, shrugging dismissively. “But we did manage to buy some time. Tricking the computer’s timers worked, so we’ve got about a few hours or so before the corrosive gas starts pouring out, and a few minutes past that before whole thing explodes.” He turned the screen, to show his diagnostic readings to his companion.

“Oh good, plenty of time,” Starscream said, rolling his eyes. With his uninjured hand he took the diagnostic tool from Wheeljack to examine his readings and the diagrams of their current obstacles. “Fine. I’ll defuse the corrosive gas chamber while you work averting the explosion.” 

Wheeljack raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?” 

“Look there,” Starscream said, pointing to the schematics. “The gas lines run behind here, seems like.” He gestured to a panel behind him. “But it’s pretty far back, and we don’t have time to dismantle this bulkhead. I’ll have a better chance. Longer arms.” 

Wheeljack squinted, then turned slightly to get shoulder to shoulder with Starscream, and held out his arm. Starscream sighed, but also held out his arm. 

“See? Mine’s longer. And thinner.” 

“Yeah, but.” He reached over, tapping Starscream’s blaster. “That kibble’s gonna give you all kinds of hell.” 

Starscream glared at him, but despite his dismissive huffing, he reached for the blaster with his other arm. Before Wheeljack could ask what he was doing, Starscream wrenched the hardwired apparatus off his arm with hardly more than a wince. Looking up to meet Wheeljack’s wide-eyed shock, Starscream merely shrugged. “No time to dismantle that properly either. You don't live through a war as the Decepticon’s second-in-command by being squeamish.” He grinned — though his expression still looked pained — and bumped shoulders playfully with Wheeljack. “Now, hand me that hyperspanner and let's get to work.”

Seeing his companion’s normal impish personality resurface, all concern drained from Wheeljack and he glared. Despite that, he grabbed the tool and handed it over. “So, do you regret making this your grand debut back to the world of science?”

“And leave all this fun to you?” Starscream grinned. “Hardly.”  
  


* * *

**Yesterday**

  
“So, how is my favorite scientist doing today?”

Wheeljack looked up at the ceiling of his workspace, considering how to respond to that. He settled on sighing, dropping his tools gently. “What can I do you for, Starscream?” 

“Cutting right to the chase, I see,” Starscream said, keeping up his smirk, but clearly feeling slightly perturbed to be cut down so quickly. “Fine. I have something interesting for you.”

Wheeljack motioned him to continue when he paused, clearly assessing if his bait had worked. 

Starscream pulled out a data pad and set in on the desk, setting it to project a holographic image above Wheeljack’s workspace. “As you know, we’ve had drones out running scans on the outskirts past Iacon and Metroplex, scouting for anything useful or interesting.” 

Wheeljack crossed his arms. “Uh huh. Still waiting for the dramatic reveal.” 

Starscream obliged, waving his hand over the data pad. It played a fairly boring flyover, with the same old sand and rust that were common out in the badlands beyond what they had settled and reclaimed. But soon, what appeared to be an outcropping of rocks marred the image of the horizon. Wheeljack took pause, leaning in as Starscream rewound the feed and zoomed in. With another gesture, he overlaid a wireframe that perfectly matched the irregular rectangle shape of the outcrop, and approximating what the rest of it — currently submerged in the sea of sand around it — must look like. 

“A cargo ship?” Wheeljack asked. 

Starscream smirked, and flicked his wrist. The wireframe righted itself to show what the ship would have looked like right-side up, and with a two-handed gesture, Starscream enlarged it and spun it around. 

“A Condescension Class freighter,” Starscream said. 

Wheeljack looked at him dubiously. “Decepticon.” 

Starscream shrugged dismissively. “That’s not the interesting part though.” With another gesture, he overlaid the results of several spectral scans, until one of them hit on something. Six points of light, evenly stacked on either side of the hull. 

Wheeljack’s optics widened. “Spark signatures.” 

“Exactly,” Starscream said. “It seems we’ve found more citizens to welcome back to Cybertron.” 

“What exactly are we looking at here though?” Wheeljack asked. “I mean, a Condescension Class? I’m not an expert on Decepticon ships, but I thought most of those were shot down or put out of service ages ago. That thing must be close to three million years old.”

“Two point eight million, actually,” Starscream said, grinning. 

“Then, I say again, what are we looking at here with the sparks?” he asked. “Cold storage sparklings? Sleeper ship?” 

“Got it in two,” Starscream said, playfully jabbing a finger at him. “That’s why they call you the best, right?” 

“So… we’ve got six Decepticon sleeper agents on ice that potentially think the war is still on and might start shooting the first thing they lay eyes on.” Wheeljack sighed. “Great surprise.” 

“Hmm, I thought you were all about leaving the past behind. Getting rid of old rivalries for the sake of our species… saving lives. Did I get your interests wrong?” Starscream asked, idly picking at a speck of dust with his fingers, as if he really didn’t care. 

Wheeljack sighed. “Of course I want to save lives, it’s just… This isn’t exactly a cake walk you just gave me.” 

“Then you might not like what I’m about to say next…” 

“Solus be slagged, what?” 

Starscream tapped the data pad a few times, and it started playing a repeating pattern. The wavelength appeared on the projection as well, overlaying the image of the ship. “This is the distress signal that the ship is still sending, albeit very weakly. We can only receive it with the drone right on top of it.” 

“Am I supposed to remember a Decepticon distress signal from the early-mid-war?”

“It’s a Decepticon Science Division code, to be exact,” Starscream said. “Originally, during the creation of many of the Decepticon’s chemical weapons and viruses, it became necessary to send out a distinct distress signal for when containment was lost.” 

“Wait, I’m remembering this now,” Wheeljack said. “It sometimes used to disguise itself on Autobot frequencies… brought a few Autobots down with it, tricking them into thinking it was a distress signal from one of our own.” 

Starscream nodded. “Later on we swapped the codes, once we knew the Autobots had learned the meaning of this one. It came to be used to signal that sensitive tech or weaponry was in danger.” He paused, grinning slightly. “After all, what better code to use, once the Autobots had come to learn that the code meant plague ship?” 

Wheeljack glared at him. “What? So was the original use of the code just to train us to back off?” 

“Oh, Wheeljack, stop trying to read a nefarious plot onto everything.” Starscream said with a wave. “Consider it… a happy accident.” 

Wheeljack sighed. “So, which case are we looking at with this ship?” 

“The second, I believe,” Starscream said. “This ship appears to have been shot down several years after the code switch. The ship likely ran into some sort of trouble, which necessitated them putting themselves in cold stasis to await rescue. One which it would seem never came.” 

“That’s still a small margin, Starscream,” Wheeljack said. “Are you basing this off of scans that date the age of the ship? We could be dealing with interference in the results.” 

Starscream waved over the projection again, bringing back the live drone feed instead of the ship’s wireframe approximation. He zoomed in on a side of the ship that had some severe charr burns on it. “Here.” 

“Here, what? What am I looking at?” 

“These three burn marks,” Starscream said, pointing them out. “Autobot blaster fire. The old Delta pattern, after the cargo ship took evasive maneuver Epsilon.” Wheeljack gave him a skeptical look, while Starscream shrugged. “What? Prowl isn’t the only one with a tactical mind. I practically wrote the book on Decepticon maneuvers.” 

“And what exactly was that piece of historical speculation supposed to prove?” 

“Those textbook escape tactics weren’t published until after the code switch,” Starscream said. “You don’t even have to trust my memory on that. Believe it or not, records do exist.”

“Fine,” Wheeljack said. “So, what is it you’re asking me to do? Go into an abandoned Decepticon ship that likely has some kind of run-amok technology on it, and save the crew of six Decepticons that are very likely to shoot as soon as they lay their eyes on a red badge?” 

“No,” Starscream said. “I’m asking you to do that with me.” 

Wheeljack stared at him. 

“As you said, they’ve been asleep since the first third of the war. They’ll likely be confused and disoriented. It will help for them to see a familiar face,” Starscream said. At Wheeljack’s dubious look, he shrugged. “Or, at the very least, they’ll stand down when I tell them to, because they’ll recognize the Air Commander.” 

“Uh huh,” Wheeljack said. “Fair enough, but we still don’t really know what kind of wacky tech or weapons they had on there — if not chemical weapons, because I’m still not sure I’m convinced we’re safe on that front. This could be a very dangerous mission, Starscream. And you’re not really known for your altruism.” 

Starscream sighed. “You’re forgetting, Wheeljack, that I was also a scientist. I’m sure I can handle whatever it is they have on that ship. And besides…” He plucked his crown off, spinning it between his forefingers. “It can get very lonely and frustrating at the top. Forgive me if I’d like a change of pace. Use some different parts of my brain for a bit.” 

“And it’s absolutely nothing about trying to get me all to yourself for a day, huh?” 

Starscream smirked at him. “Well… I didn’t say that the idea didn’t come with some fringe benefits…” 

Wheeljack sized him up for a long minute, before looking back at the projected image of the ship. Infuriating as Starscream was, he wasn’t exactly wrong; there were six Cybertronians waiting for a long overdue rescue. Eventually, he held his hands up in surrender. “Fine. When do we leave?” 

Starscream smiled.  
  


* * *

**Today**

  
Starscream hissed as another small spark of electricity arched off of his armor. The least of his concerns, really, when contending with being trapped in ship designed to kill him.

“A curiosity bomb,” Wheeljack said, from beneath the bulkhead he was slid under, trying to disable the ticking time bomb. “Been a while since I saw a piece of work like this. Thought I’d seen the last of them. Hoped I had, at least.”

The minute they’d pried the ship open and stepped in, they were instantly sealed in again. It didn’t take long to find out that the spark signatures were fake and that the whole thing was rigged with half a dozen different ways to kill them. They hadn’t said the name of the device, in their frenzy to make sure they lived long enough to talk later, but now that they had some breathing room, it seemed unavoidable. 

They’d both thought it. 

Starscream sighed, his face halfway squished against the wall as he tried to give his arm the farthest reach possible. “Yes, well… Curiosity bombs were a rather resource heavy gambit, so they fell out of use as we redistribute our assets elsewhere.” He frowned, scrabbling to reach a switch just barely out of his reach. “And by then they’d nearly completely served their purpose, so what was the point?”

There was a clank as Wheeljack’s helm hit the bulkhead. 

“Are… you okay?” Starscream asked. 

“You really had to put it like that, didn’t you?” Wheeljack asked, ignoring him, and sliding out from under the bulkhead. 

“Shouldn’t you keep working?” 

Wheeljack brandished a wrench at him. “Curiosity bombs only served the purpose of gaining the attention of Autobot scientists. These death traps are what nearly made the term ‘Autobot Science’ a contradiction of terms. It’s what made Decepticon Science such a fearsome entity, with no way for us to counter back, and you have the nerve to just casually talk about them ‘serving their purpose’?” 

“I sense I’ve struck a detonator,” Starscream said cooly. “Maybe we could continue this conversation when the risk of doing that is solely metaphorical and not literal?” 

Wheeljack huffed, turning around and picking up his scanner. “You just want to slither out of this like you slither out of everything else.” 

“What can I say? I have a gift.” 

Wheeljack glowered, in between tweaking his device to help reprogram the ticking bomb. 

Starscream did his best to roll his eyes, while still keeping tabs on where his hand was, deep in the circuitry of the wall. “Fine. You wanna talk? We can talk. So, who died then?” 

Wheeljack slammed the scanner down, and proceeded to climb back under the bulkhead. “Who didn’t?” he whispered, more to himself.  
  


* * *

**2.8 million years ago (give or take)**

  
“Wheeljack, we can talk about this.”

Wheeljack ignored the voice on the other side of the door. He was slumped against it, having jammed the entry sequence so that no one could get in. 

Not even with an officer clearance code. 

“Think about this logically,” the voice said. “You can do more for the cause this way. Stick to your strengths. Hit them where it hurts.” 

Wheeljack looked out into the room, dark as it was. A whole weapons cache, spread out along the floor. 

He wasn’t the best fighter. Never would be. 

He guessed he’d hoped that at least one of the weapons would slot into his hand and he’d feel… something. Like a sign from Primus, that the path he was considering was the right one, that he could do it. 

But ultimately he still felt just as lost. 

“Just come on out and we can get revenge. Your way.” 

Wheeljack banged his helm against the door. 

“Trust me. No matter how much you think you’ve thought this through, I’ve thought it through ten steps ahead. This is the best way to even the body count. You in?” 

He banged his head one more time for good measure before sliding his mask back on, and pulling himself to his feet.  
  


* * *

**Today**

  
“Wheeljack, I’m not one for dying speeches, mostly because I’ve never been in a situation where I was truly convinced I would die…”

“That sounds like a lie, but sure, go on,” Wheeljack muttered, while prying a panel off the wall. 

“But I would like to say that if anything does happen, well.” Wheeljack wasn’t looking at him, but he was certain he could _hear_ Starscream smirking. “If I have to die in an enclosed space with another mech, I couldn’t choose a better one.” 

“Are you… are you really flirting with me? Right now?” Wheeljack asked. 

“Oh, whatever do you mean?” 

Wheeljack scowled, thankful that it wouldn’t be visible, both because of his mask and because they were both consumed in their separate life-saving tasks. “I mean, I’m not an idiot. I know why you came along. I know why you decided that specifically the two of us had to do this mission.” 

There was a pause, with only the sounds of the two of them prying at system parts, and the soft sound of small electrical arcs. “I never lied to you, if that’s what you’re saying.” 

Wheeljack chuckled, but with no mirth to it. “Yeah, but that’s the thing. Even when Starscream tells the truth, there’s still a lie or two in it for good measure.” 

Starscream pulled his arm out of the wall, looking over at him. “Listen, Wheeljack. You’re right. This mission was a handy excuse… to spend time with you. Would you like me to organize a tribunal over it?” 

“Spend time with me… be heroic… I bet you had a whole speech prepared about saving lives and mercy or something,” Wheeljack said. “Did you think I might swoon over it?” 

“I’m a very good orator,” Starscream said, prodding gently at some of the circuits closer to the front of the wall. “I’m sure I could give you a speech that would knock you on your—” 

“Uh oh.”

An electrical hum began building in pitch beneath the panel Wheeljack was working on. 

Starscream’s head whipped around to look at him. “What? What ‘uh oh’?” 

Wheeljack scrambled, grabbing for his scanner. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I triggered the detonator or anything, but if we’re not lucky this might just—” 

Wheeljack didn’t get to finish, as the next thing he knew he was being slammed into the floor as the panel exploded in sparks above him. He heard a loud cry of anguish from just above him, reverberating through his plating. 

It took him a moment to get his head together, audials ringing in the wake of the explosion, to realize that Starscream was on top of him, his side singed, and one wing looking like it had nearly been blown off.

“Starscream!” 

Wheeljack moved, causing the seeker to scream again, before clamping his mouth shut. He moved again, slower this time, trying to gently maneuver until he was sitting up and could get a proper look. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Starscream rasped. “The ship first. Make sure we’re not about to explode.” 

Wheeljack nodded, getting to his feet and grabbing for his scanner. “No, it looks like the explosion was isolated and I don’t think it changed much. Still counting down to oblivion, but not any faster than before.” 

“Excellent,” Starscream rasped. “Okay, now worry about me a little.”

Wheeljack set down the scanner and got to clearing a space to work, and with a bit of painstaking repositionsing on both their parts, managed to move Stascream into a better position. Wheeljack was no doctor, but he got to sealing leaks as best he could. He was fairly certain that it wasn’t life threatening, but he didn’t like the look of the wing. He winced sympathetically as he poked and prodded damaged systems, hoping to at least stem the loss of energon. 

He wasn’t sure how long it had been until one of them finally spoke. 

“Told you I could knock you on your aft,” Starscream said, between whimpers of pain. 

It was like a dam had broken, and Wheeljack found a rush of emotions washing over him, both annoyance and relief, among others he couldn’t quite place. 

Or maybe he didn’t want to. 

“Why did you save me?” 

Starscream moved, grimacing as he did, so that he could look Wheeljack in the eye. “What? Looking for my ulterior motive?” 

Wheeljack shook his head slowly. “Maybe. I don’t know.” 

Starscream tried to rest his helm on one arm, clearly uncomfortable but trying his best to get by. “You’re useful to me, Wheeljack. You can take that whichever way you want. It’s probably true no matter which way you choose to slice it. Same with what you asked me before, about why I decided both of us should be on this mission. I’m not so one dimensional as to only have one motivation for any single thing. But pick whichever one suits you.”

Wheeljack paused, pulling his hands away from Starscream’s wound. Starscream gave him a curious look, that only intensified when Wheeljack reached up and slipped his mask off. 

“Starscream,” Wheeljack said, with a sullen look that was now clearly visible. “I know you’re not an honest mech, but I am. At least most of the time, and that’s why I have to tell you…” 

“What? That this curiosity bomb was Autobot made?” Starscream said casually, flicking his wrist dismissively. 

The shock on Wheeljack’s face was plain. 

“Oh, come on. I figured that out ages ago,” Starscream sighed. “It wouldn’t respond to Decepticon High Command override codes, it’s sending out a signal that would send most Autobot ships running, but that would necessitate any Decepticon response to send a science team. It’s a classic curiosity bomb snare, just played from the other side.” 

“But… you didn’t say anything…” 

“Why should I? It wouldn’t change the fact that we’re trapped in it, and neither of us have the ability to stop it. After all, it’s not like you…” 

Wheeljack looked away. 

Starscream pushed himself up to his elbows with a grunt. “You’re not saying…” 

“It was a long time ago,” Wheeljack said softly. “Honestly, I almost forgot about it. I tried so hard to forget about it… I thought everyone else did too. It was so long ago, when the curiosity bombs were in full swing. So many scientists. So many of my colleagues… So many great minds, just gone. I didn’t know what to do. I felt lost. Hopeless. I considered giving up.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Hell, I almost joined the wreckers. Thought going out in a blaze of glory might be the best way to go. Because, can you imagine me? A wrecker? But the thought that maybe I could take a few ‘cons with me… At the time, it was real tempting.” 

Starscream was staring at him, but for the life of him, Wheeljack couldn’t place the emotion. Not quite confusion, not quite judgemental. Almost just a quiet curiosity. 

“What made you change your mind?” Starscream asked.

Wheeljack changed his mind, gesturing at the ship around me. “Someone… someone convinced me that I could fight back my way. With my brain. Give the cons a taste of their own medicine.” 

“Build a curiosity bomb,” Starscream said. His voice was even, no hint of anger or blame. Wheeljack almost wished he would get mad. “Hurt us the same way we hurt you.” 

“It was only ever a design,” Wheeljack said. “I didn’t think it was ever built. And my blueprints certainly never used secret Decepticon codes. By the time I finished it, I don’t know… a lot of things happened. I took my mind off it. Pushed forward. I thought the design would just fade into history and I could forget…” 

Starscream hummed thoughtfully, resting his helm on his hands. “I’m guessing the someone you mentioned is our good friend Prowl…”

Wheeljack looked away. “It would make sense that he knew about the code switch… and it would make sense that he’d add a few extra levels of security so that even the bomb’s designer couldn’t easily switch it off.” 

“Remind me to give him a nice big ‘thank you’ the next time I see him,” Starscream muttered. 

Wheeljack shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. I never should have let my anger get the best of me all those years ago. I should have known… nothing good would come of it. And I should have… Primus, I should have remembered the trap the minute you showed me this damn ship. I’m sorry, Starscream. This one’s my fault.”

Starscream stared at him for a moment, still wearing that inscrutable look that was starting to creep Wheeljack out a little. But finally, after a few moment, he spoke.

“Wheeljack, do you know why I like being around you?”

Wheeljack rolled his optics. “Because I'm the most trusting idiot you know?”

“In a way, yes.”

Wheeljack whipped his head back up to look at Starscream, and when met with a coy smirk from the seeker, Wheeljack frowned. 

Starscream chuckled, but the sound was slightly hollow. “Do you know how you become good at manipulating others? It comes down to learning to get into another person’s head.” He sighed, looking off at nothing in particular. “By the end of the war, I knew every single detail of how Megatron’s mind worked, I knew exactly which horrendous implications of a plan to highlight, every side goal to downplay. Thinking like a genocidal maniac was part of my job description… but with you… It's like when I asked you to fix Superion. I knew that you'd do it for one reason alone.”

Wheeljack frowned, glaring slightly. “To save my friends.” 

“Exactly,” Starscream said, nodding slightly. “To save people… Not for the glory, not for political points. It's the same with this task. I knew to make you do it, I had to present it in the way that would make you see the good of it. Not the politics of diffusing a relic of the war… Not to show off your superiority to the Decepticons… to save people. It's rare that I get myself in a headspace so… simple.” He chuckled softly again, softening what otherwise could have been a very condescending tone. “I don't know… I suppose I like being near you because… I feel like maybe thinking like a good person for the purpose of manipulating them is perhaps the closest I've ever come to actually _being_ a good person.” 

Wheeljack sighed. “Well, sorry to disappoint you.” 

Starscream laughed, louder, more richly this time. He continued even as he winced and grabbed at his injured side. “Are you serious, Wheeljack? You think that one war crime is going to change my feelings on you. Who among us hasn’t committed a dozen atrocities?” He smirked at Wheeljack. “What’s a few war crimes between friends?” 

Wheeljack laughed; he didn’t mean to, but it bubbled out of him before he could even realize it was happening. “I’m sorry… this whole thing is ridiculous.” 

Starscream smirked, reaching out a hand to him. “Remember when you said you trusted me? It would be pretty unfair if I didn’t extend the same to you.”

“Since when does Starscream care about fairness?” 

“Only in special cases,” Starscream said, smiling. 

Despite himself, Wheeljack smiled too, grabbing his hand. 

“Now… can we finish disarming this Autobot death trap?” 

Wheeljack nodded. “If you can stand again…” 

Starscream nodded. He groaned as Wheeljack helped him to his feet, but he waved off Wheeljack’s concern. “I’ve had worse. If it means saving myself, I can withstand quite a bit.” 

Wheeljack squeezed his hand and smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”  
  


* * *

  
“Do you think it worked?” 

Wheeljack didn’t bother checking his readout. He’d checked it five times in the past minute anyway. “Clock’s still ticking. No way to know ‘til we hit zero.” 

“We defused everything.” There wasn’t the normal haughty pride that Starscream normally spoke with when he mentioned things he’d done. Instead, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself it was true. 

Starscream was a steady weight against Wheeljack, the two of them slumped back to back as they waited. Wheeljack shifted slightly, careful not to disrupt their precarious positioning or hit Starscream’s injured wing. 

He reached out for the scanner, but changed his mind in mid air. If they were going to die… well, the readout wouldn’t matter. He let the hand fall to the floor beside him. 

He didn’t pull away when Starscream’s hand rested on top of his. 

“Well know in a minute,” Wheeljack said, softly. 

He opted not to say anything as their fingers laced together, and lightly squeezed together.  
  


* * *

**The Next Day**

  
Wheeljack squirmed slightly, trying to settle comfortably on his barstool while holding his engex cocktail close to him. All in all, he would have preferred to be back in his workshop, focusing in on some project or another. After the harrowing experience, Windblade and Ironhide had both been around to see him, and practically dragged him out to Maccadam’s, insisting that he take the night off.

He appreciated the concern, but honestly tinkering was always what set his mind at ease. Instead of burying himself in some mindless work to take his mind off of it, he found himself dwelling. 

A few people had asked what happened, and he gave them all the briefest of overviews that he felt comfortable with. A few people had laughed about the potential horror of being trapped that long with Starscream, and Wheeljack found himself hollowly laughing along. 

He swirled the straw around in his cocktail, trying to make his mind stop spinning. Above the background noise, he heard the TV above the bar, and groaned when he realized they were talking about the event as well. He picked up his drink, preparing to go find somewhere farther away to sit, when Starscream appeared on screen. He was in a hospital berth, looking better but still rough around the edges, with temporary patch-plating bolted all along his side. 

“Lord Starscream, what can you tell us about the event yesterday out in the badlands?” 

Starscream was smirking, soaking up the attention from the cameras, but at that question his smile faltered by a few millimeters. “The event is over and done with, and there is not much to say about it. Myself and my head scientist were trapped in a nasty relic from the war. We disabled it, and we escaped. To me, this is nothing more than a reminder that some things are best left in the past, and move on.” 

“Was the device Decepticon in origin?” 

“It was relic,” Starscream repeated, smile going slightly sour, “of a time when factions mattered. They no longer do. I see no reason to assign any further relevance to it than that.” 

The reported seemed to drone on, but Wheeljack was no longer listening. He abandoned his drink at the bar, and made for the exit.  
  


* * *

  
Starscream almost appeared to be recharging when Wheeljack stepped into his medical suite. But no sooner had he stepped in than one of Starscream’s optics cracked open. 

“Ah, what a pleasant surprise,” Starscream said, his smirk returning. 

“Better than having a camera crew barge in, I’d bet,” Wheeljack said, crossing his arms, leaning against the far wall. 

“Ah, so you saw that,” Starscream said. He cradled his side as he tried to sit up straighter on the berth. 

Wheeljack looked away. “It would have been so easy for you to score points with that,” he said, his voice falling to a low whisper. “For once, you wouldn’t even have to lie. Tell them it was an Autobot device. Talk about our atrocities. No one could even fault you.” 

Starscream stared at him. “And?” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“Would you even believe whatever I said? Wouldn’t you just assume I was telling you what you wanted to hear?” 

Wheeljack look straight at him. “I want you to tell me anyway. You once said you never lie to me. And maybe that was a lie, but I want to hear you say it anyway. Did you avoid telling them because you thought it was the right thing to do? Or did you just do it because you thought I might be watching?” 

Starscream huffed. “I… Of course I did it because you might be watching. Because I knew otherwise, you’d be hurt.” 

Wheeljack considered that. “That almost sounds like you’re trying to care about someone other than yourself.” 

Starscream shrugged widely. “Sparkling steps, right?” 

Wheeljack reached up, taking his face mask off again. “Why do you care if I get hurt or not?” 

“As I said before, you’re important to me,” Starscream said. “You said you trusted me once, and honestly that’s not something I hear often. I… have a vested interest in you liking me.” 

Wheeljack pushed himself off the wall, walking over to Starscream’s berth. Starscream looked genuinely confused now, and Wheeljack wondered if his look was as inscrutable as Starscream’s had been, back in the bomb, as both of them figuratively bared their sparks.

He leaned down, hovering his face over Starscream’s before he had completely worked out what he wanted to do. Almost in a split second decision, he opted to kiss him. 

Starscream nearly jumped, confused, but soon possessively grabbed at Wheeljack’s helm, pulling him in. Wheeljack could have laughed; it was the kind of selfish passion Wheeljack would have guessed would come from a kiss with Starscream, but he couldn’t exactly call it unpleasant. 

When they pulled away, Starscream still looked confused. “So… what was that for?” 

“For doing the right thing,” Wheeljack said. “And I’m thinking maybe, just maybe, if you have that kind of incentive to do the right thing, maybe you can at least fake it for a while.” 

“An interesting hypothesis,” Starscream whispered, lips inching back towards Wheeljack’s face. 

Wheeljack pressed a finger into Starscream’s lips, stopping him. “Also… I’m going to mount a TV in my workspace. Tuned to the news, all day, every day… So anytime you talk, just think about whether I might be listening.” 

Starscream squirmed, considering that. “So, what is this?” He asked, despite the fact that Wheeljack hadn’t moved his finger, making his voice slightly muffled. “Are you trying to be my conscience?”

“If it works,” Wheeljack said, pulling his finger away, and kissing him again. 

Starscream seemed slightly rigid as Wheeljack pulled away, perhaps trying to come to terms with this conditional victory. “I suppose,” he said slowly. “I suppose it’s worth a shot.” 

Wheeljack grinned at him. “Trust me, Star. I can make it worth your while.” 

Starscream’s uninjured wing flicked with interest at that as Wheeljack got up and slipped his mask back on. 

“I’ll come back and visit you tomorrow,” Wheeljack said. “Think you can behave ‘til then?”

Starscream settled back on the medical berth, slightly dazed. “I suppose I’ll have to try my utmost.” 

Wheeljack winked at him, before slipping away.


End file.
